


Fury Lied.

by Fancy_Suit



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bromance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Suit/pseuds/Fancy_Suit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cint's guilt wears on him as he waits to hear news about Agent Coulson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fury Lied.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys.  
> Hope you like my short one shot.  
> This is the only fic I have on this computer and I wanted to get something up, yanno?

Clint Barton’s eyes were constantly heavy from days without sleep, lined from exhaustion and glassy with worry. It had been five days since The Incident in New York, four since he had first learned of Coulson’s death and three since he had very nearly had the nervous breakdown that had resulted in Fury telling him the truth.  
                He had no idea why the hospital was in Fiji of all places, not that it mattered. To tell the truth Clint had forgotten of the world outside the sterile walls of the ICU. The rhythmic beeps and whirring of the several machines in there had long ago lost their sound to him and the room seemed almost deafeningly silent. Aside from the occasional doctor coming in to check vitals he had been alone. Sometimes they would ignore him, but most of the time he would be cast with side eyed glances of caution.  
                In those moments he would briefly wonder what he looked like. He hadn’t had a shower in almost a week now, his hair was matted and he felt grimy, even his eyes felt gritty. Sleep had been impossible, not by choice, but out of fear. Bags lined the underside of his eyes and made his features seem gaunt and haunted.  
                He had been close to sleep when something in the room happened and jerked him from it almost violently. It had been a small change. A noise, something…; something small. He sat up in the chair and quickly inspected the machines for signs of irregularity but saw and heard nothing. He was about to stand up and stalk towards the door to check the hall when another noise jolted him into pausing.  
                “You smell terrible Barton.”  
                His eyes immediately locked onto Agent Coulson, who grinned at him wearily from the bed through half lidded eyes, “You don’t look so good either.”  
                Clint was surprised as a small almost desperate laugh bit out of his mouth and he raised a hand to his face to scratch at the scruff that had accumulated there over the past few days, “Look who’s talking.”  
                Coulson chuckled at him deeply, sounding tired but amused.  
                The archer sat back down on the armchair next to the bed, obviously relived, “How you feeling?”  
                “Well, I’m not dead,” Phil responded wryly, “So there’s that.”  
                “That’s not what the other rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. things. Fury has Natasha and the other guys think that you were killed.”  
                 “Damn,” he groaned good-naturedly, “I understand his motives but that’s going to make it hard for me to get back to work. Not to mention what it’s going to do to my health insurance.”  
                A moment of soft silence passed before Phil spoke again quietly, “If this is a top priority matter of secrecy…. Why are you here Barton?”  
                The silence returned then, but this time decidedly strained and Clint’s shoulders visibly tensed.  
                “Phil…”  
                Coulson’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise at the mention of his first name. Few people addressed him as such anymore, much less the usually easy going archer.  
                Clint struggled with his words for another moment or so before speaking again anxiously, “You’ve always been the straight man, you’ve never lied to me before or sugar coated the situation, and… ,  
                He faltered and looked up at the agent with pleading eyes, ”…and that’s what I need right now. Promise me that you’ll tell me the truth Phil.”  
                Coulson shifted slightly on the bed, his face guarded for a moment before relaxing reluctantly and meeting Clint’s eyes and giving him a small nod, “Alright.”  
                 Clint whet his lips anxiously and nodded back, “Okay….Okay,” he bent his head down and placed both of his hands on the back of his neck as he stared down at the floor, “Was it me?”  
                Agonizing seconds ticked by before he received his reply, Coulson’s voice was almost deafening in the silent room.  
                “No, it was Loki. He was at my back before I could blink.”  
                Clint sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do. He had expected to feel some sort of weight lift off of him but….  
                There was a light weight on his shoulder as Coulson grasped it and continued talking firmly, “None of it was you Clint. Not one damn bit of it. You stopped being a factor of this mission as soon as that maniac showed up on the base. Not one word, step or breath your body took after that moment was yours. …You’ve had that arrow drawn back long enough Barton, let it go.”  
                Clint barked out a strangled laugh and jumped as the sound startled him. Relief spiked through him almost painfully making his eyes water. He shut them before any wayward tears could fall and relished the slight burn of it.  
                Phil smiled as he felt Barton’s shoulder go slack under his hand. He gave one last squeeze before letting go and settling himself back into the bed.  
                “Now go take a shower. I wasn’t kidding when I said you smelled _.”_  
                “Fuck you Coulson _.”_  
  



End file.
